


The After Party

by candybree



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Late night porn, Light Bondage, M/M, PWP, Prom, bowties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybree/pseuds/candybree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek gets back at Stiles for teasing him throughout the prom night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The After Party

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Light bondage, explicit language
> 
> This is all due to Dylan O'Brian wearing a bowtie to the MTV movie awards and a few other random, offhand comments.
> 
> un-betad, any mistakes are my own and this was written ridiculously late at night so sorry if it sucks.

“Fuck Stiles,” Derek growled, claws ripping through the thin material of Stiles’ dress shirt. “Do you know how hot you look in a suit?  And that fucking bowtie.”

“Derek.” Stiles gasped, feeling the sharp prick of Derek’s claws on his sides.

Derek shoved Stiles against the wall harder, tearing the tattered strips of cloth from Stiles’ body so his torso was bare except for the suspenders keeping his pants up. He nuzzled Stiles’ shoulder, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses up Stiles’ neck until he was stopped by the collar of the bowtie that had somehow managed to stay secured through Derek’s frantic stripping.  Derek licked, nipped, and sucked at the soft skin until there was a nice, dark red mark that Derek knew would blossom into a beautiful bruise by the morning and would mark Stiles as his for at least a week.

Stiles moaned and bucked against Derek as he unclipped the suspenders and undid Stiles’ pants, letting them fall and pool around his ankles.

“Bed.” Derek demanded, spinning Stiles and shoving him toward the bed.

“God, seriously Derek, you couldn’t let me get out of my pants first?” Stiles asked as he tripped and nearly fell flat on his face when his feet got tangled in his pants.

“You were grinding against me all night,” Derek said, pulling the loose suspenders off Stiles’ body before tossing him flat on the bed.  “Rubbing against me, pressing yourself so tight against me you were practically fucking yourself on my cock in the middle of the dance floor.”

“If you had just let me blow you in the bathroom like I wanted then I wouldn’t have had to tease you so much.” Stiles told him, grinning as Derek stripped out of his tux.

“I was not going to let you blow me in some dirty public bathroom.  Especially not at your prom.” Derek growled.

Derek crawled on top of Stiles, sitting lightly on his stomach so he couldn’t get away.  He looped the suspenders through the iron bars of the head board.  He grabbed Stiles’ wrists and tied them quickly but securely to the headboard with the suspenders.

“Gonna punish me Sourwolf?” Stiles asked, biting his bottom lip.

“Payback.” Derek told him.  “I’m going to tease you until you can’t take it anymore.”

“Are you at least going to take this bowtie off?” Stiles asked, trying to shift so his cock was closer to Derek’s body, but he couldn’t move an inch.

“Nope,” Derek said, grinning wolfishly. “I like how it looks on you.”

Derek leaned down and captured Stiles’ lips in a bruising kiss, nipping at his lips until Stiles opened his mouth, letting Derek’s tongue in to gently, but thoroughly, explore every inch of it.  Derek’s hands slid slowly down Stiles’ arms until he could tweak his nipples, making the younger man writhe beneath him and gasp into the kiss.

Derek released Stiles’ mouth in favour of kissing down his neck and adding a matching hickey to the other side of his neck.  Derek continued kissing down Stiles’ body, mouthing at his nipples until he was a whimpering mess.

“Please Derek, please.” Stiles begged, tugging uselessly at the stretchy suspenders wrapped around his wrists.

“Now you know how I felt on the dance floor.” Derek told him, though he did relent and reach one hand down to rub a dry finger over Stiles’ hole.

Stiles mewled and twisted against Derek’s hold, trying desperately to get _something_ of Derek inside him.  Derek chuckled at Stiles’ desperation and kissed him softly, trying to calm him down while he reached blindly for the lube in the bedside table.  Stiles sighed happily when Derek finally pushed two slicked fingers into him, loving the burn of the stretch and the feeling of being filled by Derek.

“’Nough.” Stiles panted, “I’m ready.  Not a tight virgin anymore, you took care or that a while ago.”

Derek grinned smugly. “I did didn’t I?”

Derek turned Stiles’ words to whimpers when he pulled his fingers out.  Derek slipped Stiles’ legs onto his shoulders, leaning over him and bending Stiles nearly in half so he could kiss him as he guided his cock into Stiles’ hole.

“Fucking finally,” Stiles hissed as Derek bottomed out, rotating his hips to get Derek to push against him just a little harder.

“I’m thinking you’re gonna have to wear the bowtie more often.” Derek said, stroking the small strip of silk encircling Stiles’ neck while he started gently thrusting his hips. “Draws attention to my marks.”

Derek started thrusting hard and fast, stealing the air from Stiles’ lungs.

“Possessive. Son of a. Bitch.” Stiles muttered between thrusts, fingers scrabbling at the suspenders holding him in place.

“You’re mine Stiles.” Derek stated, nosing and sniffing at the marks he had left on Stiles’ neck, his hips never slowing down.

“Yours.” Stiles agreed, tilting his head to bare more of his neck to Derek.

Derek heard the change in Stiles’ breath and the slight shift in his scent that signalled he was about to come, so he took the invitation and sunk his, completely human, teeth into the joint between Stiles’ shoulder and neck.  Stiles’ body tensed and then relaxed as he came, spurting between their bodies before going completely limp.  Derek thrust twice more before he was coming too. 

Derek released the flesh between his teeth, giving it an apologetic lick.  The skin wasn’t broken but Stiles was going to have a near perfect bruise of Derek’s teeth for a while.  Derek felt very satisfied.

Derek untied Stiles’ wrists, leaving the suspenders hanging on the headboard, before he got up to grab a washcloth from the bathroom.  He cleaned them both up before climbing into bed and curling up against Stiles’ back.

“Can I take the bowtie off yet?” Stiles muttered sleepily, pressing back against Derek.

“No. Leave it on.”

Stiles rolled his eyes half heartedly and grinned before falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> So, Bad Writer didn’t put any actual consent into the fic, but the way I see it, it wouldn’t have been the first time that Stiles and Derek have done something like this and they have developed a sort of short hand. Stiles calling Derek Sourwolf and asking if he was going to punish him was him giving consent and agreeing to what Derek was doing to him. 
> 
> Sorry if anyone had issues with that while reading the fic.


End file.
